


No Strings Attached

by protect-him (protect_him)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Prostitute AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_him/pseuds/protect-him
Summary: This marks my first foray into NSFW territory. Constructive feedback is welcome, as this chapter has not been reviewed by a beta. Thanks for reading, please enjoy. Let me know if you'd like me to add any tags. This does involve Fenris having to perform prostitute duties unwillingly, though Anders does his best to make him comfortable. Fenris also has a pseudonym at this point. Anders won't learn his true name in this chapter.





	1. One Night Fling

Anders turned the card over in his hand.  _ Danarius’ Gentlemen Services _ it read. For a good time, to help you relax. Anders  _ did _ need to relax. Hawke was always getting on him about it.

What could be the harm? Anders tucked the card in his pocket. The man handing out the cards hadn’t seemed all that relaxing, but he’d assured Anders that he wasn’t the one providing the services. Anders could really go for a good lay with no strings attached.

He took a quick break from the hospital that afternoon and went off in the park where no one could hear him to dial the number on the card.

“Danarius’ Gentlemen Services, how can we help you?” The female voice said, smooth as silk.

“I’m—er—looking for services,” Anders said, suddenly nervous.

“Of course,” the woman replied easily. “We do only have men. I presume that’s what you desire?”

“Yes—hem. Men.” Anders said. Andraste’s knickers, he sounded silly.

“Are you needing an appointment in the next few days, or would you like to schedule for a later date?”

_ Date _ . Anders almost laughed. “Soon, please,” he said. He was hoping to get this taken care of quickly.

“Let me check the calendar,” the woman said. “Are you looking as soon as tonight, or is that too sudden?”

“Tonight’s great,” Anders blurted.

“Hmm,” the woman hummed thoughtfully. “We have limited options tonight, but one of our top escorts had a last-minute cancellation. You  _ won’t _ be disappointed.”

“Yes. Sure! That sounds great.”

“Does nine o’clock seem fair? The session is twenty-five minutes.”

“Nine. Yes. Um, is the address on the card your location?”

“Yes. Please arrive promptly and park in the lot next to the bar across the street,” the woman said. “Do not loiter in front of the building. Your number will be two. When you arrive, you may use that number at the front desk and you will be escorted to your room. Scortarius will be waiting for you there.” She hung up abruptly and Anders realized he hadn’t even asked the price for this Scortarius. What a pompous name. Hopefully the fellow wasn’t too intimidating.

Anders finished his shift in a blur of anticipation. This place sounded just like what he needed. Private and efficient. He was a bit nervous about this Scortarius. He supposed all the people who worked there had pseudonyms, and Scortarius sounded too ostentatious to be a real name.

He arrived at the address and only paused a moment to observe the outside of the building. It looked very unassuming, almost shabby. As soon as he stepped inside, though, he was met with a showy interior. Chandeliers and red velvet, and yet the lobby felt subdued and elegant. He felt underdressed. Everyone was in neatly pressed black suits. The woman behind the front desk had sparkling dark eyes. Anders thought she would make for a lively tumble too if he was in the mood for a woman.

“Anders—er… two,” he said, approaching and leaning delicately against the faux marble.

“Welcome,” the woman said. “I'll take your card. All payments are made up front.”

“Oh! Of course!” Anders fumbled for his wallet, still glancing around the room. The men in suits appeared to not only be well dressed and attentive, but also—Anders paused a moment to gawk—extremely muscular. 

He handed his card over and the woman ran it and quickly passed it back. Now one of the suited men approached the desk.

“This gentleman has two,” the woman said.

The man motioned for Anders to follow him and led him across the room, through a set of elaborate double doors, and up a flight of deep red carpeted stairs. He opened a door labeled with a gold plate displaying the number two and bowed Anders inside.

“Your escort will be in momentarily,” the man said, and closed the door behind Anders.

Anders turned a full circle. The room was furnished sparsely, but elegantly. In contrast to the lobby, it was colored largely in dark greys. The bed was the centerpiece, a huge circular thing, with only one side of it flattened where it stood against the wall. The headboard was metal bars, and they looked sturdy. Anders thought momentarily of the ways they could be used. He didn't want that though. There was a small narrow window, also with bars on it, presumably to prevent thieves from getting in. Anders had seen those on the windows of the bar across the street as well.

There were a few token pieces of bedroom furniture: an armoire, a padded stool, a small chest. He glanced down, wondering if he should take off his shoes. The floor was dark and smooth, and a large black rug extended from the edge of the bed. Where was this Scortarius fellow? Wasn't he supposed to be waiting here? Anders checked his phone. He did have one minute left to nine. He removed his shoes and set them next to the door, then approached the bed.

The cover was silky, and had a hint of blue to the grey coloring. The door opened behind him and closed quickly. He turned and saw that Scortarius looked nothing like he'd imagined. To begin with, he was an elf. Shorter than Anders, lean and dark skinned. He was naked. It was a bit sudden, but Anders supposed he'd come here for a fling, so having nothing to remove was more efficient. He began to remove his clothes, trying not to stare at the pale lines that ran over the elf's entire body. Tattoos? In the room's dim lighting, he almost looked like he was glowing.

In a moment, Scortarius was standing in front of Anders, his hands on Anders’ waistband, fingers deftly tugging away his belt. He dropped to his knees. It took only the slightest push from the elf and Anders was sitting on the bed. He was suddenly flushed, his heart pounding in his ears. He made a move to brush the white fall of hair from the elf's face and the elf flinched. Noticeably. Anders went on alert, putting his hands on the elf's shoulders to keep him from putting his mouth on Anders’ now-exposed cock.

“Hey, you okay?” Anders asked.

Scortarius looked up in surprise, mouth already open, his hands on Anders’ thighs. He nodded and tried to lean forward. Anders held him back.

“I need a minute,” Anders said. “Let me get undressed.” The elf rocked back on his heels, nodding. Anders stood up and walked past Scortarius before he began to pull off his clothes. The elf stood up to help him, but Anders took another step towards the door.

“I've got it, thanks,” he said. The elf disappeared behind him. Once Anders had undressed, he turned around to find Scortarius on the bed. He must have been quick. A pair of handcuffs had appeared on the small bedside table. He was lying on his back, hands working to open himself up. He spread his legs and thrust his hips into the air, whining invitingly.

Anders skipped over the restraints. He had done that before, but had no desire to attempt it with a stranger. He climbed onto the bed and moved until he was positioned between the elf's legs. He leaned forward so that he was on his hands and knees over the elf.

“Just to be on the safe side,” he said, “what's your safe word? I don't want to go too far.”

The elf looked confused for a moment.

“You won't,” he replied, his voice deeper than Anders had expected.

“Just in case,” Anders insisted as the elf squirmed and bucked his hips so that their cocks brushed together. Anders felt sparks and nearly collapsed on top of Scortarius. Maker, but that felt  _ good _ .

He was still hesitating, though. This felt a bit too fast, and a little off.

Scortarius was impatient. He reached up to put a hand on either side of Anders’ face and pulled him down for a messy kiss. Anders did collapse now, feet splaying to either side. As soon as their skin connected, the elf was rocking, grinding against Anders, still kissing him as well. Anders let go for a moment, hands finding their way into the elf's hair as he propped himself on his elbows and kissed back. His hair was so  _ soft _ . Anders broke the kiss to turn his head to the side and brush his face against the elf's hair. Immediately, Scortarius took the opportunity to suck at Anders’ neck. Anders moaned. He was already aching, this was so much, and it felt so good. 

Then there were hands on his cock and Anders arched with the thrill of it. The touch reminded him. He looked back down at the elf, suddenly serious. 

“Where is the lube?”

Scortarius reached to where a bottle lay next to him. Anders hadn't seen it when he was standing on the other side of the bed, and then he'd been so focused on the elf's face, he'd missed it. Anders grabbed it and sat back to prepare himself. Scortarius lay on his back, still rocking his hips as if begging Anders to lie back down. His fingers pulled at the skin of his ass, exposing his entrance. 

Anders blushed red and set aside the bottle. He felt a little vulgar watching this display. He shifted forward again so he could look at the elf's face instead.

The dark room was cool against the heat of Anders’ skin. Scortarius wiggled a bit until their pelvises were lined up. He braced his legs and then offered his entrance to Anders’ leaking cock. 

Anders kissed the elf's ear, pleased to feel the slight shiver beneath him. He pushed himself up.

“Scortarius,” he said, voice strained with need. “Is this what you want?”

A flash of almost amusement flickered across the elf's face before he smiled and wrapped his arms around Anders’ neck to pull him down and kiss him again. Anders let their bodies fall flush with each other. His feet strained to get purchase on the slippery bedsheet as he pushed into the elf. He could feel the hard length trapped between their bellies.

Anders tried to make sure the elf was also enjoying himself, but he hadn't gotten an experience like this since his Circle days when he was in the communal living and lack of privacy that defined the shabby boarding school where he'd met Karl.

It wasn't long before Anders felt the tightness in the pit of his belly snap and he shuddered with pleasure. The elf was still moving, hands and lips on Anders’ sensitive skin. He felt almost ethereal for a moment, basking in the waves of bliss that ebbed slowly until he was a boneless heap, unable to do much more than let Scortarius kiss him.

Anders felt that the elf was still untended to beneath him, so he got up and shuffled down to help.

The elf was suddenly alert and tense, moving out of Anders’ grasp.

“Something wrong?” Anders asked.

“No, dominus,” Scortarius said meekly.

“Can't I return the favor?”

The elf blinked at him owlishly. “No, dominus,” he repeated.

“Why are you calling me that?” Anders felt a bit groggy in the aftermath of his orgasm.

“Master,” Scortarius said, sitting closer and wrapping his arms around Anders’ neck, kissing him and rubbing his erection against Anders, his body lithe and sinuous.

Anders whined happily as he felt fire flickering in his belly again, his mind going fuzzy.

“Master?” He blinked, a chill going down his spine.

“Shhh,” the elf hushed him, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “What do you prefer I call you?”

“J-just Anders please.”

The elf slid back, lowering himself until his mouth was hovering just above Anders’ cock.

Anders wanted it, but he also had questions.

“Scortarius,” Anders began, then gasped as the elf's lips slid down over his skin.

Anders lost the power of speech as the elf worked him to a second completion. Anders hugged the elf close once Scortarius sat up again, once again kissing him. He opened his eyes and noted that the elf's were glazed over.

He pulled back. 

“Hey, are you sure you're okay?”

The elf nodded numbly, groping for Anders’ shoulders to pull himself closer. Anders held him at arm’s length.

“You look exhausted,” Anders said. “How much have you eaten today?”

The elf just stared at him.

“ _ Have  _ you eaten?” The elf did look a bit thin. Scortarius lurched forward, trying to break Anders’ grasp to attend to him again, but Anders was coming to his senses now. He squeezed the elf's arms, trying to get his attention. The elf cried out softly.

“Whoa! What's wrong?” Anders shifted his hand and looked closer to see a huge bruise on his arm.

“What's this from?”

The elf looked panicked.

“I'm not supposed to ask, am I?”

The elf shook his head. Anders felt a bit sick.

“How many people do you see a day?”

Scortarius whined and was now trying to pull away. Anders held on.

“Five? Six?”

“Please messere—”

Anders almost felt dizzy. He could imagine the elf spent a good portion of his day doing this. Impersonal encounters where he was pleasing people like Anders. Anders glanced down. How could he go so long without release?

“How much do you make per person?” Anders asked. He didn't even know how much this would cost him, but he'd know how much the elf would make.

The elf looked at him quizzically.

“The fee,” Anders clarified. “You get so much per person you see. How much?”

“I d-don’t. Please—”

“You don't get anything?!”

Scortarius squirmed desperately. “Please!”

Anders reluctantly let him go and the elf rubbed at his arms, looking a bit frightened now.

“Don't be scared,” Anders said. “You know you should work somewhere else. You're supposed to get paid for this.”

He felt terrible. This poor elf wasn't getting anything out of this. There was a soft knock on the door. Anders jumped.

“Ten minutes,” the elf said, leaning back and spreading his legs again. “There is time.”

“No, I can't,” Anders said, putting a hand gently on Scortarius’ knee. “Can I ask you a few more questions?”

He could see the elf visibly droop unhappily.

“What's wrong?”

“I can't—” He paused.

“Can't talk about it?”

Scortarius nodded. Anders realized that this was worse than he'd thought.

“You… can't leave, can you?” He said, very quietly.

The elf bit his lip.

“Andraste’s  _ tits! _ ” Anders buried his fingers in his hair. “I’ve gotta call Aveline.”

“They’re  _ listening _ ,” the elf hissed in desperation. Anders’ eyes widened. He motioned and mouthed:  _ can they see? _

The elf shook his head. Anders knew he should continue what he came here to do, but he couldn’t anymore.

Scortarius jumped forward and grabbed at Anders’ face and kissed him.

“Mmf!!” Anders grabbed at the elf to keep from toppling over. Scortarius was rolling his hips again, and Anders couldn't help but respond. His body was more than receptive, given how attractive this elf was. Anders knew that Scortarius wasn't his real name. He wanted to learn it, learn more about this elf. He wanted to help him. This was obviously a bad situation. Anders’ thoughts unraveled as he felt his cock harden. The elf's hands were suddenly around him. Anders gasped, shuddering at the stimulation.

“I want you inside me,” Scortarius said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

Anders’ eyes widened.

“No…” He didn't want to, now he knew what was going on.

“Please—”

The elf broke away to reach for the bottle. He began rubbing the lube over Anders’ cock.

“Let me,” Anders said, taking the bottle to add more. If he was going to do this, he wanted to make it as easy as possible on the elf. He looked like he was ready to collapse, yet he kept pushing himself.

“Are you really sure you want this?” Anders asked.

In response, the elf shifted to line himself up with Anders, lowering himself slowly as he laved sensual kisses on Anders’ throat. Anders moaned, jerking his hips.

“Deeper,” Scortarius whined. Anders opened his eyes, realizing that they'd fallen closed. This wasn't relaxing anymore; he was genuinely concerned for this poor underfed and probably captive elf.

“What's your real name?” Anders whispered.

He felt more than saw Scortarius shake his head as he was pressed against Anders’ chest.

Suddenly Anders felt his mana stir. Confused, he stilled for a moment. As he did so, the markings that covered the elf lit up bright blue, illuminating the dim room.

Anders gasped. Scortarius was still moving himself on Anders’ cock, but now he was glowing.

Anders tried to hold him still.

“How are you doing this?” Anders asked, since he was fairly certain the elf wasn't a mage.

Scortarius simply continued his attentions on Anders’ throat, moving down to lick at his nipples, moving from one to the other.

Anders was quite concerned. How was he  _ glowing _ ? He was too distracted to even think about what he was doing. The room looked eerie now, but he could see faint glowing runes on the walls that were probably only visible when the elf lit up like this.

No wonder he was so popular if this was his trick. Anders could feel the elf trembling under his hands.

“Scortarius,” he said quickly. “Please, stop. Stop what you’re doing!”

The elf pulled back, looking at Anders in confusion. But the light stopped.

Anders carefully ghosted a hand over the lines on the elf’s shoulder.

“That hurt, didn’t it? You were shivering.”

Scortarius’ mouth fell partially open and he blinked. Anders felt that he was right. 

“Can I look?” Anders spoke so gently, the elf seemed to actually relax. He was still sitting on Anders’ cock, but he was moving more lazily. He leaned forward against Anders’ chest, resting his head on his shoulder.

Anders pushed the elf back a little so he could look closer at the lines in his skin.

“It’s...this is—” 

Scortarius grunted, cutting Anders off. He started moving faster again, tensing up. Anders felt his orgasm fast approaching. He panted as he peaked, the elf trembling against him and clinging to his shoulders. He was planting kisses along Anders’ jaw.

Another knock sounded on the door, more insistent, and Scortarius shifted off of Anders, planting one last kiss on his nose.

“Scortarius—” 

“Come again?” The elf whispered, hands lingering on Anders’ thighs. Then he retreated, the door closing quietly behind him.

Anders wanted to clean off. He went over to the small table along the wall by the bed and opened the drawer to look for something he could use. There was a bottle of pills. He picked it up. A drug for prolonging sexual stimulation. Almost empty too. He frowned and quickly replaced it, going to the armoire instead. He knew he was expected to leave, but now his curiosity was aroused.

The armoire only required a cursory glance and he knew that looking there was the wrong decision. He knew that some people enjoyed inflicting pain, but he didn’t like the thought of that happening to Scortarius. Anders decided he’d seen enough. He dressed and quickly hurried from the room, nodded to the woman behind the desk, and almost ran to his car.


	2. Fool Me Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is a bleeding heart, and can't help but try to help.
> 
> A little more nsfw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO MANY THANKS TO MY WONDERFUL BETA [DOVABUNNY](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dovabunny)!!
> 
> Thanks also for the kind comments and kudos from all the lovely people who have come across this somehow in the miracle of the internet. Thank you so much ♥

Anders sat in the front seat of his car for several minutes before even turning it on. There was something very wrong going on here, he could feel it in his chest the way his heart was pounding. 

As soon as he got home, he phoned Aveline.

“Anders? I would not have expected to receive a call from you this late,” she said.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, oh no. Is something wrong?”

“I went to this um...place today. I am certain that there was illegal activity. I don’t have evidence, but I’m nearly a hundred percent sure. I was talking to him a little and he seemed skittish. I—”

“Anders, slow down for a minute. Where was this? Who is ‘he’?”

“He is—Don’t laugh, okay,” Anders said. “I went to this—I guess it’s a brothel. I’m pretty sure that the elf I spoke to is the victim of trafficking and abuse. Even though...I paid the establishment, he told me that he doesn’t make any money. He seemed nervous and I’m almost a hundred percent sure he hadn’t eaten in much too long.” 

Aveline hummed thoughtfully.

“I’m worried,” Anders admitted.

“Hawke has been telling you that you need to relax, hasn’t he?”

“Well, yes, and I thought this would be one way to do it,” Anders said.

“But you didn’t relax, you just ended up with another cause?” Aveline said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Aveline, this is serious. We have to help him!”

“Come by the station tomorrow,” Aveline said. “We can talk more then.”

Anders called Danarius’ services again the next morning to request another visit with Scortarius.

A man answered the phone this time. He didn't seem surprised that Anders wanted to request the same escort as his last visit.

“Scortarius is one of our most popular escorts,” the man explained patiently. “His next available session is several weeks out, unless you would be interested in one of our midday specials.”

“What are those?”

“Ten minutes for a hundred, and five for fifty.”

Anders’ jaw dropped. He hadn’t realized it was quite  _ that _ expensive. And this was a special.

“When is he available?” Anders asked.

“We have availability at 12:15 on Friday. Would you like to make a reservation?”

Three days from now.

“Yes, please,” Anders said quickly.

“Would you like a five or ten minute session?”

“Er—ten,” Anders replied. 

It was expensive, but Scortarius had asked him to come again. Yet, what if the elf asked everyone to come again? Did he just fall for the oldest trick in the book? He hoped that in ten minutes he could gather some kind of information that would help him. He would ask Aveline this afternoon.

Aveline was waiting in her office when he came.

“Do you feel any better?” She asked, her eyes twinkling. “More  _ relaxed _ ?”

“Not really,” Anders said, rolling his eyes, pulling out the place’s business card and handing it to her. “I made another appointment for Friday, though. I was hoping you could tell me what information I would need to get.”

Aveline took one look at the card and her look darkened.

“Danarius,” she growled.

“You know him?” Anders asked timidly.

“There have been plenty of suspicions about his business,” she said. “Sadly, he seems to be untouchable. Nothing short of a convincing witness will have any usefulness in a case against him. We’ve yet to get one.”

“So I just ask him to come with me on Friday?” Anders asked.

“You don’t get it Anders, Danarius doesn’t just let his people go,” Aveline said. “It’s been tried before. You try that, you don’t get to go back—if you are even able to get out there yourself after trying to get one of their prized workers to leave. He’s got power, an iron grip on his employees, and no shortage of clients.”

Anders’ shoulders drooped. He had been hoping this would be easier.

“I don’t like what I saw,” he said. “But how am I supposed to get him out?”

“I’m sorry Anders,” Aveline shrugged, handing Anders back the card. “You’ll have to find a way if you want to bust this, but don’t set your heart on it. If you have a witness I can take it from there, but I’m afraid I can’t help otherwise.”

Anders decided he’d just ask the elf on Friday. How hard could it be?

As it turned out, it was much harder than Anders’ cock all Friday morning. He couldn’t stop thinking about Scortarius and what he’d be doing on his lunch break. He showed up promptly with only a couple minutes to spare for his appointment and was ushered upstairs and into the same room as before, only this time Scortarius was already there.

“We don’t have much time—” Anders began, but then gasped. The elf was skilled at this. The door had only just closed and already his pants were being unbuckled and the elf was nuzzling at his neck. Sucking? No, just kissing. Anders tried to speak again, his voice already breathy.

“Sco-Scortarius, I have to ask you something...”

The elf answered in a whispered hiss.

“They’ll hear you.”

Oh right. Anders wondered how many other clients were told that the room was bugged. He had so little time. He grabbed the elf’s wrist and pulled him towards the bed, lowering his voice. If he wanted to help the elf he’d have to pretend to play by their rules.

“I want you in me, moaning so loud, the neighbors can hear you,” he said, hoping the elf understood that he wanted the noise as a cover.

The elf only hesitated a moment before he pulled down Anders’ jeans the rest of the way to his ankles and pushed him back onto the bed. Anders clambered back until his head was on one of the pillows. He pointed up towards the headboard questioningly. Hopefully the elf would recognize that he was asking about where the hidden microphone would be.

The elf shook his head and nodded towards the armoire. Before Anders could respond with a nod of his own, suddenly the elf had pulled the lube from somewhere and was preparing his own cock with one hand as he used the other slicked hand to give attention to Anders’ already half hard erection. Anders kicked vigorously until one leg of his jeans came off and spread his legs.

“You’re not—” the elf began.

“I’m ready,” Anders said. “Time is of the essence and I-I’ve been thinking about this all morning.”

Nodding, Scortarius lowered himself and thrust slowly into Anders. He was certainly not completely prepared for it, but it felt  _ so good _ . He threw his head back with a silent gasp, momentarily forgetting everything he wanted to say; everything he came here for except for the incredible, sweet burn. It all came rushing back to him a moment later when the elf began moaning loudly. 

Anders reached to cup the elf’s face and Scortarius settled over him, one hand holding himself up, and the other stroking Anders’ now rock hard erection trapped between their bodies. He continued to moan and pant and Anders had to focus on resisting his body’s desire threatening to be pulled under and join in with moans of his own.  Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea after all—this was a lot harder than he expected.

“I’ve been thinking of you all week,” Anders whispered into his ear. “All of this, what they’re doing to you, it’s not right. I want to,  _ hnngg _ , I want to help you get out of this place.  _ Ah! _ ” Anders couldn’t stop the moans from tumbling over his lips, it just felt so amazing.

Scortarius shut his eyes tight and bit his lip but otherwise didn’t react. Anders’ wondered if maybe he wasn’t the first client who wanted to ‘save the poor elven prostitute.’ Well, he was different and he’d prove it to Scortarius, no matter what it took. Anders determined that he would show the elf that his weren’t just the words of a client lost in pleasure but a promise. 

“How can I get you out of here?” He whispered, trying not to sound as out of breath as he felt. The elf’s eyes suddenly opened wide, looking at him curiously, but then he shook his head, moaning again.

“I’m serious,” Anders said. “When aren’t you busy? Do you sleep in this room? Are the guards always there?”

The elf shook his head again, and then snapped his hips forward in a quick thrust. Anders couldn’t hold back a cry of pleasure, during which the elf replied.

“We sleep in the basement. Two guards.” He paused, watching Anders and waiting for him to cover their conversation with more noise, helping him along with skillful thrusts that stroked his cock over that magic spot inside Anders that made him moan with abandon. Another thrill of pleasure surged up through his core and Anders groaned, his hips arching as his body begged for more. Scortarius took the opportunity to continue.

“4 AM to 9, 2 PM to 5,” he whispered.

Anders blinked, licked his lips, and nodded. His mind was overwhelmed with sensations, but he had to remember this.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Five more minutes,” the elf said. “You have not reached completion yet.”

“I-I—” Anders stammered. He knew he had to focus, had to ask more questions, but he was also just a man. The pleasure took over his senses and he wrapped both arms around the elf’s shoulders. He was too far gone to resist. “D- Don’t stop.  _ Please. _ ”

Scortarious wriggled free, sitting up so he could angle himself better. His thrusts grew more rhythmic as he pounded relentlessly into Anders until Anders saw sparks and felt his entire body tingle as he lost all sense to the rising pleasure. He clutched at the bedsheets, panting harshly. He was so close, the elf felt so incredible inside him. 

Then he suddenly remembered he hadn’t even asked Scortarius for consent.

“Wait, s-stop,” he tried to push himself up, but his body was already responding. It was like Scortarius was reading his body, leaning forward to run a hand up under Anders’ shirt, pushing it up and exposing his chest. His thumb brushed Anders’ hard nipple. He put one hand around Anders’ cock, knowing exactly when to thrust harder, stroke faster, and touch gentler, guiding him into and through his climax as he finally lost himself and spilled over his chest. 

Before Anders knew what was happening, the elf had pulled out of him carefully and his mouth was sliding over him, licking up his spend and causing Anders’ hips to jerk frantically. It was like being caught in the middle of a free fall and flung back up into the air. A second orgasm was easily coaxed out of him, this time into Scortarius’ eager and talented mouth to the sounds of his own moans and gasps.

Anders’ cry this time was equal parts protest and pleasure. Guilt crashed over him and he scrambled upright as soon as his limbs solidified from the jelly they’d seemingly turned into.

“Scortarius, I apologize,” he said quickly. “I did not ask you if you wanted this before I requested you to do this. I’m so sorry.”

The elf looked dazed and confused. Anders put his hands on the elf’s bare shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

Scortarius nodded.

“You do not need to ask, Anders.”

“I—” Anders stared. He remembered. He remembered Anders’ name.

“Would you like to clean yourself?”

“Oh! Yes!” Anders shook his head, coming back to reality. “Can’t really go back to work like this,” he laughed. The elf went to the chest on the opposite wall and brought out a damp cloth. He knelt on the bed and began to clean Anders himself, but Anders reached to take the cloth from him.

“There’s no need to do that,” he said. “I’d rather do this myself.” He paused. “Do you just keep a supply of these in that chest?”

The elf nodded. “It is more convenient for our clients.”

Anders tried to fold the rag back up neatly before giving it back.

“Do I get dressed now?” He asked nervously. How long had it been?

“Unless you would like me to do anything else.”

“No, that’s alright,” Anders asked, realizing he hadn’t asked when the elf ate. He looked almost ragged now that Anders was sated and his nerves were gone. He had so many more questions.

“Should I...come again?” He asked.

Scortarius nodded. “If I have pleased you.”

Anders shuddered involuntarily as he pulled on his jeans and tried to fix his hair. His mind felt hazy and his limbs felt loose in the aftermath of the breathtakingly fast sex he'd just had.  It had been amazing. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’ll see you, then,” he said, quickly scuffing on his shoes and hurrying from the room. He needed to write down the information Scortarius had shared with him before he forgot.

Anders hardly registered the drive back to work, repeating the times the elf had whispered to him.  _ Four to nine, two to five. Four to nine, two to five _ . As soon as he got to work, he grabbed a pad and wrote it down, sticking it in the pocket of his jeans so he wouldn’t lose it.

Anders felt torn, moving between his desire to help Scortarius but shame of losing himself to the elf’s skilled body, and his fantasies and memories of what that body had done to him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the elf’s hot mouth on his cock all afternoon, and the pleasant ache every step he took served as a reminder of how incredible it had felt to be filled and taken by him. 

Another image that wouldn’t leave him, however, was that brief panicked look when Anders had tried to get him to stop, and his confusion when Anders apologized for not asking his consent. Scortarius was reactionary, so much so that Anders had no doubt he had experienced abuse, though whether at the hands of his employers or by clients, Anders had no idea.

He was mechanically preparing to go home when his phone buzzed. It was Hawke. With everything that had happened Anders had forgotten that he had made plans to get dinner with his friend tonight. 

Jem was already there when Anders arrived, ready with Anders’ favorite drink, a welcome sight for the exhausted doctor. They ordered food and chatted about inconsequential topics while they waited for their food and then as they ate. The company was pleasant, but Anders found his mind drifting again to the elf. He’d seemed undernourished. Anders was fairly certain that bringing in food would not be allowed, but he wanted to make sure he ate enough.

“Hello? Earth to Anders?” Jem snapped their fingers and Anders blinked, and then grinned sheepishly.

“Whoops, zoned out there,” he laughed, taking another drink.

“You seem a bit out of it today,” Hawke said. “Haven’t I told you that you need to do something about your stress? Find some way to relax!”

Anders laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, about that… I tried.” He shrugged.

“And…?”

“I went to a brothel and—”

“Good for you!” Jem interrupted.

“—it wasn't good. The elf I saw was clearly abused. But he—I guess it's his job to be forward. I lost myself in how incredible he was.” Anders groaned, dropping his head in shame.

“Maybe he just likes it rough?” Jem suggested cautiously.

“He admitted that he doesn't get paid.  _ And _ I talked to Aveline. She said the place is under suspicion, but the owner is apparently a slimy one and she needs a witness to get any leverage. I know what I saw.”

“You have rotten luck, Anders.”

Anders agreed heartily.

“Hawke, I need to get him out of there. Aveline can’t really help. Her job has all this red tape. I know he stays in the basement, and there are only two guards. I know when he’s supposed to be asleep. He told me. Maybe I can sneak in then.”

“This sounds like a large-scale robbery. Do I need to get Merrill to help hack into their system too?”

“You’re kidding but it might come in handy. Although, I actually don’t know if they have one,” Anders admitted. “I want to go myself first, scope things out. See what I would really need to help him out.”

“If someone is in trouble I’m not kidding at all, Anders. But are you sure he’s not just peddling his body because he likes it?”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you need someone along with you?”

“Getaway vehicle, maybe,” Anders said. Hawke was always willing to help out. “—for security. Just in case. If they catch me, I’ll probably need to run.”

“Sounds exciting.”

Anders snorted. “Sounds dangerous to me.”

“That too,” Jem conceded. “When are you going?”

“I was thinking I’d go this weekend,” Anders said, “since I’m not working.” He pulled the note from his pocket to show it to Hawke. “He told me that he’s supposed to be sleeping between 4AM and 9AM, then again between 2 and 5 PM. I presume at those times he’s in his room in the basement”

“Do you know anything about the building’s layout?” Hawke asked.

Anders shook his head. “I’m assuming the basement has a separate entrance, though.”

“Let’s go scope it out now,” Hawke said eagerly. “The more we know, the safer it will be.”

Anders nodded.

Jem wanted to hear everything Anders knew about this place and the elf he’d met. Anders felt a little guilty he didn’t actually know much yet besides what he’d been told.

“I’m certain that the name he uses isn’t his real name,” Anders said. “It’s pretty pompous. They call him  _ Scortarius _ .”

“Sounds like Latin to me,” Jem said, puzzled. “Have you looked it up?”

Anders shook his head. He hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t see what use it would provide, and told Jem as much.

They shrugged.

“It might be interesting to know more about him. Figure out whether he picked the name himself or if it was given to him.”

Anders pulled out his phone and did a search, which brought up nothing at first.

“Maybe it’s not Latin?” He said, showing Jem the search results.

Jem pointed to his screen. “Try removing some of the letters at the end. Maybe they fancied it up to sound more like a name. If not, then maybe it really is just gibberish.”

Anders did another search and screwed his eyebrows together as he read the results.

“What does it say?” Jem leaned forward to look across the table.

“Something to do with prostitutes,” Anders said. “It’s derogatory.”

“Holy shit, really?”

Anders held up his phone, looking defeated.

“With a word like that, it’s got to be intentional too,” Jem said. “Sounds like a shitty name.”

“It’s a mouthful, that’s for sure.”

“You can’t call him that anymore.”

“Maybe I can talk to him when I go down there. I can’t ask him while I’m in a session with him because the room is bugged. The owner can actually listen in on what happens. I’m assuming it’s the guy that owns the place at least.” Anders frowned and went back to his search to keep scrolling for alternate meanings.

“We could go down in the morning and you could try to get in there at 4AM when he goes back to his sleeping quarters.”

“Do you think I could get him out too?”

“Only if you’re guaranteed success. Did Aveline say anything?”

Anders admitted that Aveline had warned that trying to break him out was risky and getting caught might jeopardise the whole effort.

“That wouldn’t be helpful if I ended up stuck in there too,” Anders said.

“No,” Jem agreed. “You won’t attempt to get him out. Sneak in, scope it out, talk to him if it’s safe. We’ll regroup and come up with a plan to get him out.”

They determined to meet at 3:45 at Anders’ apartment. Hawke would then drive to the location and they’d look for a basement entrance. If Anders could get in, he would carefully sneak inside to find where the guards were and where the elf stayed.

Anders tried to sleep when he got home, but couldn’t. Yes, he was worried, but he was also afraid of what he would find. He had this image of a dark damp cell that he couldn’t get out of his mind. He was picturing the elf curled up on a stone floor, with nothing to eat but bread and water. He tossed and turned in bed, sleeping in short bursts until his alarm went off at 3:30.

Hawke arrived soon after and they left, hardly speaking a word. Anders silently directed Hawke to the place and Hawke parked a block away behind a building.

They paused halfway down the sidewalk to look around.

“The building really doesn’t stand out, does it?” Jem whispered.

“It’s pretty nice inside, actually,” Anders said, “I was surprised. It’s almost lavish.”

“With any luck, the sleeping quarters will be just as nice.”

There was only one man in the alley behind the building. Anders was sure he was a guard, but Jem went up and started talking to him, pretending to be looking for directions.

The man jerked his thumb at the brothel and told them he’d just come from there.

“Good lay,” he said, winking, “but ya won’t get in now. These’re off hours an’ you’ll need a reservation. If I could give a recommendation, I’d tell ya to go for Scortarius. Bit of a wait, but ‘e’s worth it.”

Anders felt sick as he glanced over the man’s corded muscles and sincerely hoped the man hadn’t used them with the elf. He felt like this man could snap him in half.

“Thanks for the recommendation,” Hawke said. “If I find myself needing it, I’ll know where to look.”

The man gave them a confident thumbs-up, and sauntered off.

“Where are the two guards he told me about?” Anders whispered.

“Inside, I’d bet,” Jem said, approaching the wall. They walked towards the alley behind the building, not daring to speak.

“Here,” Jem pointed to a staircase and inset door leading down and inside. “This has to be it.”

“I’ll go in and take a look,” Anders said.

“I’ll bring the car over.” Jem frowned. “Be careful. You’re not the stealthiest person I know.”

Anders thought of all the times he’d tripped over his own feet or smacked into unsuspecting furniture. Just yesterday afternoon he’d fumbled with a handle and run into a door at work. He gave Jem a half smile.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, and approached the door as Jem went the other direction to get the car.

The handle turned smoothly and Anders pushed the door inwards, ignoring the bold  **No Trespassing** sign staring him in the face. He closed the door quickly behind him and ducked behind the first thing he saw, a tall chest of drawers against the nearest wall on his right. His heart pounded in his ears as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.

Aside from his heartbeat, all he could hear was the low murmur of indistinct voices chatting to the muted din of music being played at low volume.


	3. Caught Behind the Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders gets a glimpse of what the conditions are like for the escorts who work in Danarius' business, a closer look than he would like, and he doesn't like what he finds.

Just beyond a stack of boxes in the center of the dimly lit hallway, Anders saw the doorway where the sounds were coming from. The door was almost completely closed and yellow light shone through underneath, illuminating a thin crack along the wall. It took a while until he could hear their conversation over his pounding heartbeat..

“Nah, there’s no need to go check. One of ‘em tried last week, ‘member? They all got punished for it. They won’t be trying again anytime soon.”

Anders heart thudded. He heard the shuffle of cards.

“Good point, and Dan’s here too, so they’ll be extra careful.”

“Right, I forgot Dan was here. Haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Yeah, he went down to see the elf.”

“Gotta check the quality of the goods,” the other man snickered.

Anders knelt down to crawl around the dresser and began to inch his way past the door, keeping himself pressed against the wall. He really hoped that wasn’t the same elf.

Oh Maker please let it not be the same elf.

The voices faded to a faint rumbling murmur as he moved further down the hall.  The light from the guards’ room faded and soon it was dark. Anders passed several closed doors. No light came from beneath them, and pressing his ear against them didn’t reveal any sounds from inside. Perhaps the elf was in one of these rooms? Anders was now reluctant to refer to him by the name he'd been given, but had nothing else to call him.

Anders squinted in the darkness. There were doors across the hall lined up with the ones he had passed.  The doors were inset into the walls and as Anders ran a hand along the wall, his fingers brushed the cold metal consoles in the wall beside each one. A cautious study with his hands seemed to reveal a screen and a small number pad. He wished he could pull out his phone and use the light to examine the devices, but he didn't dare. It would be excessive for them to be locked electronically, but it seemed that was really the case.

It was noticeably colder down here than he would have thought comfortable. He was missing his coat by the time he'd passed four doorways, all with the doors tightly shut. He tucked his hands under his armpits as he quietly approached the next door.

As he paused to feel if the door was closed, he heard something different that made his heart leap into his throat. It sounded like a cry from behind the next door. Getting down on his hands and knees, he crawled up next to the door to listen, but nearly skittered back again when a voice spoke inside the room.

“That's it, Fenris. Stop crying.” Anders heard the sound of a slap and flinched. “I sure hope you’re not doing this in front of your clients. Disgraceful.”

Anders carefully crawled closer again. He could hear the stuttered gasping that was definitely someone crying and then grunting from the other person.

The man spoke again.

“Pull yourself together, whore.”

A high-pitched whine of ...protest? Pain? Anders clenched his fists. It was _wrong_.

“That should do. Still, you need to be more professional, even when tired.” Anders shuffled away from the door, crouching down where he could only hope he wouldn’t be seen. He could still hear the response from behind the door.

“Dominus, please.”

“What do you want?” The voice cut harshly.

“I have not eaten, dominus.”

“I just show you a good time, and you’re concerned with your stomach?”

“I just-”

“Filthy wretch. Get some sleep.”

Anders pressed himself against the next doorway as the door opened. The man who came out slammed the door behind himself and stormed briskly away. Anders heard the small click of the door locking.

The man went into the lit room at the end of the hall. Anders hardly dared move until he knew he wouldn’t be spotted. Light coming in from the hall would certainly make him easy to spot. When he shifted to try to flatten himself against the door, he accidentally leaned against the handle. It just so happened that this door, unlike all the others so far, was unlocked. Loudly and unexpectedly, Anders tumbled backwards into a dark room.

The door slammed shut. The metallic click echoed in Anders’ stunned ears. He hardly dared breathe.

He heard several sets of running feet.

“It must have been Fenris throwing something at the door,” the man said sourly. Anders heard him kick the next door over, and then they all left.

Anders clambered onto his knees and tried the door handle. Locked.

He sat down and texted Hawke.

 _‘I accidentally locked myself in one of the rooms_ , he wrote, _it’s locked electronically_.’

_‘Why would you do that?!’_

_‘Did you see anyone leave?’_

_‘Yeah, an old guy.’_

_‘There’s just two guards left playing cards in a break room.’_

_‘We’re going to need Merrill.’_

_‘Just hurry.’_

Anders considered knocking on the wall next to him to try to get the attention of the elf, but realized that he should be sleeping. _Fenris_. It was hard to mistake his voice after hearing him speak. Dominus, he’d called the man.

“Wasn’t his name Danarius?” Anders muttered. He stuck his phone in his pocket and tried to explore the room without being able to see. The floor was concrete, but most of it was covered in a thick rug. A bed just wide enough for two sat in one corner and a short empty bookshelf against another wall. He returned to the door and huddled against it. He hoped it was warmer in the other rooms—this one was freezing.

He was woken from his contemplation by another text from Hawke.

_‘Which door?’_

_‘Fifth on the right_.’

He heard a soft tap.

“Hawke!” He whispered, staggering to his feet.

He heard some muttering from, presumably, Merrill.

“She says she can’t disarm this one separately from all the others from this location. She would have to do them all, and would need access to a central console.”

“We don’t have time for that!” Anders could feel the time ticking away to when the people in these rooms would be roused to begin their workdays.

“An alarm is going to sound,” Hawke warned.

“Can you cause a distraction? Anything?”

“Easy,” Hawke said. “I’ve got matches.”

“Don’t _damage_ anything,” Anders whispered urgently. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for the elf and the others like him.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“They're going to give me a signal,” Merrill whispered.

“Can you...do the door next to me too?”

“Well...I guess so…”

Anders braced himself against the door, ready to run out.

“Okay,” Merrill said, “I’m going now.”

Almost immediately, an alarm began to ring. Anders yanked open the door and ran to the door next to him, dragging Merrill along.

“This one,” he directed, pointing at the console.

Merrill had set up a small light in the hall and Anders could see that the doors were painted with numbers—presumably corresponding to their rooms upstairs. It only took a moment for Merrill to unlock the door. Anders threw it open and stepped inside.

It was definitely the same elf. He was curled up in a state of absolute terror. His thin arms were wrapped tightly around his head, trying to keep out the noise of the alarm. Even without opening his eyes, he heard the door open and tried to wriggle away. He wasn’t even _on_ his bed. He lay on the rug in the center of the floor—naked.

“Fenris,” Anders said, loudly enough the elf could hear him. The elf’s head snapped up instantly, eyes wide with fear.

“Come on, we can get out of here,” Anders said, taking another step closer.

Fenris shook his head no. When Anders took a step forward, the elf tried to crawl back away from him. Anders stopped.

He crouched.

“It’s me, Anders,” he said. “I want to help you.”

“Go,” Fenris whispered hoarsely. “You can’t, just go.”

“Anders!” Merrill said, her voice rising shrilly. “We should go.”

Anders closed the space between them and pulled Fenris to his feet. Fenris was still reluctant, but let himself be led, following Anders down the hallway towards the exit.

Anders heard sirens in addition to the alarm that blared from just outside the guardroom.

Merrill led the way,  calling over her shoulder that Hawke’s car was not far.

Anders had lost the feeling in his hands somewhat in the cold corridors, but his hand felt hot where he held onto Fenris clammy, cold hand. It was only when a car drove by and he looked back over his shoulder to the elf he was dragging along that he realised with a start that Fenris was still stark naked.

“Merrill, how far?” He asked, slowing to a jog to shield Fenris’ body from view with his own, as much as his tall, lanky figure could.

“One more block straight, then two blocks left,” she shouted, pointing, still sprinting ahead.

“Start the car,” Anders replied. “We’re going to cut through the alleys.”

Merrill glanced back just as Anders pulled Fenris into the nearest gap between two tall buildings. He had to pay more attention now to where he was going so he wouldn’t get lost. Fenris was panting, his hand slipping out of Anders’. Anders stopped for a moment to peel off his jacket and handed it to Fenris, who cautiously put it on.

They kept going, Fenris at least now somewhat covered. The coat was long enough to barely cover his buttocks. He didn’t seem much phased by the discomfort of the inadequate covering though. This by itself was disheartening for Anders.

Anders glanced in either direction when they came to the first street. No cars. He pulled Fenris after him and they ran across the street, the elf’s feet slapping against the pavement to keep up with his own long strides.

Neither wasted their breath trying to speak. Crossing the next street, though, there were several cars in either direction, a meager but steady flow of traffic. Anders cursed under his breath.

“We’re far enough at least, we should be safe,” he said, turning to look at Fenris. His white hair was disheveled and his eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline. “Only a couple more blocks.” Fenris just swallowed thickly and nodded.

They ran out into the street where there was a gap.

An oncoming car blew its horn loudly, confusing and startling the pair. Anders stopped to flip off the driver, but as the car approached, it slowed. Anders was angry and ready to argue with the man who got out. There had been plenty of room for them to cross the street, and there had been no need to honk at them. He didn’t see the way Fenris paled.

Two more men got out of the back of the car and Anders’ angry words died on his lips and he started backing away.

“So you’re the one who was trying to steal my property,” the man said. Anders tried to make a run for it, but the man’s assistants were faster, and pulled Fenris away from him first. As Anders froze, trying to decide whether to fight or run, the other man grabbed at him and suddenly slammed him in the back of the head with a gun Anders’ hadn’t noticed until too late.

He woke up to darkness and cold.

Anders sat up. He was in a bed, just wide enough for two people. Though his eyes were open, the room was too dark to see anything. He put a hand to his throbbing head.

“Oh no,” he muttered, recalling what had happened. “Fenris.”

He checked all of his pockets several times, but he had nothing. Even the jacket that he’d loaned Fenris was now gone. The room was deathly silent. For a long space of time that he had no way of measuring, he heard nothing. He found the door, but it was locked from the outside. This might have been the same room he’d gotten himself accidentally locked in before. He had no way of knowing.

Eventually, he heard footsteps, doors closing, a sharp laugh, and then more silence.

A long space of silence. He dozed, sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, facing the door.

Finally, the lock clicked and the door opened. Simultaneously, a bare bulb in the ceiling lit up, flooding the room with a sickly yellow light.

The same man he’d seen before, Danarius, walked into the room. He walked like a man who got everything he wanted, a man too proud to get his shoes dirty. Anders glared at him.

“I am disappointed, Anders,” Danarius said. “You’ve been a client several times as well. Things would have been a lot better if you had just left it at that. You just had to be a hero.”

“Things would not have been better,” Anders spat.

“Oh,” Danarius laughed, a soft laugh that held too much malice. Anders shuddered. “But they would. For instance, you would still have been able to see Scortarius.”

“His name is Fenris,” Anders interjected.

“ _Scortarius_ —” Danarius emphasized the name “—would be eating his regular meal right now, rather than going hungry because of you.”

“Why you—”

“I would not have had to charge your card for the inconvenience and damages you cost me.”

Anders sputtered.

“And you’d be able to go back to your life,” Danarius finished.

“You can’t keep me here,” Anders said. At least he could be sure of _that_.

“Can’t I?”

“My friends know where I am.”

Danarius sighed.

“Yes, that is unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“They’ll get you arrested,” Anders said vehemently.

“A few more hours, and I won’t have to worry about that anymore,” Danarius said.

“What do you want then?” Anders tried to picture what Danarius could mean by “a few more hours,” but didn’t have any idea. He didn’t want to know.

Danarius left him now, again, in the dark. Anders was hungry and cold. He hated the dark. He hated this room.

It was a shorter space of interminable cold and darkness before the door opened again. This time, it was two guards, different ones from earlier.

Anders was pulled to his feet and dragged from the room. It was night, and the streetlights were the only thing illuminating the exterior of the building when he was escorted out and into the waiting van. He could have shouted, but he doubted anyone was around to hear him, and decided he would rather save his energy.

He saw another van behind this one, that one full of passengers. Was Danarius moving his entire operation because of this? It seemed a little extreme, but then it seemed that he was making a large profit off of this business. He couldn’t afford to lose his stock of ‘escorts’, although Anders had now come to think of them as slaves rather than employees.

Anders was blindfolded once he was situated in the van, as he assumed all of the others had been too. They drove for some time, though there was no way for Anders to know how long they drove or how far they had gone. The van stopped and he was yanked out of his seat none too gently. He stumbled forward between two guards, nearly tripping when his feet encountered a step. Four steps up and then he was brought inside. Down a long hallway and then shoved forward. A door slammed shut behind him and Anders reached to tear off his blindfold.

This room was not so dark as the last one. He had a tiny window high up on one wall, just high enough he could wave through it if he stretched an arm up. But he couldn’t see anything through it but a light on the outside of the building. Perhaps in the morning he’d be able to see more of his surroundings.

Anders crawled onto the narrow bed in the corner of his new room and lay motionless, unable to sleep despite being exhausted. Somehow he had screwed this whole thing up. Not only had he failed to rescue the abused elf, but he had somehow managed to make Fenris’s life worse, and his own as well in the process, though that was secondary. He already knew that Fenris was underfed from the conversation he had overheard before. He could only imagine how much worse it would be now because of Anders’ actions. When he did finally get to sleep, his rest was agitated and short-lived.

He woke to a cry.

At first he didn’t know why he’d woken up, but then he heard it again.

Someone was in pain. He heard noises, thumping, a yell, and grimaced. So this was what he’d gotten himself into, he thought ruefully, grabbing the thin pillow on his bed and stuffing it over his face. He yelled into the pillow, frustration and anger and helplessness all wrapped up in this venting of his emotions.

 

Several days passed.

Anders was given food by nameless men that he only saw for an instant when they opened the door to drop food for him. The sounds continued during the night, and Anders tried to block them out, refusing to think about the awful things being done. Everything felt like a nightmare.

He had hardly gone to sleep one night several days after his botched rescue attempt when he was woken again, this time by a man who pulled him to his feet. Anders had been fed, but not much, and with the stress and lack of sleep he was already feeling much weaker than he had been before. He stumbled along, trying to look around him. He saw that he’d been in a very small house, inconspicuous among a row of identical homes.

They blindfolded him again and drove him somewhere else.

This time he took off his blindfold to find himself in a small windowless room that made his chest constrict almost immediately.

“Oh no,” he groaned, sinking to his knees. This room did not even contain a bed, simply a thin mattress and a blanket. Anders would gladly have given up even the mattress for a window. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was small spaces with no windows. A small bulb above the door proved the only illumination, but it would go off at every now and then plunging Anders into  darkness.

He was terrified. Often when everything became too much he would throw himself at the door till he collapsed, huddling beneath his blanket as he fought not to lose his mind completely.

It all would have been worth it if he could have known that Fenris escaped, but Anders knew with a sick feeling in his stomach that all he’d done was make things worse.

His conditioned worsened. Food was brought at irregular intervals and he ate or did not eat depending on his awareness of his surroundings.

He thought back occasionally to the recommendation from Hawke to loosen up and try to relax, the idea that had started this all. He laughed bitterly that in the end only the opposite had happened.

He thought he might die in here. No attention was given to his health. He had food and water to survive, but being alive like this was not living at all. He slept fitfully, seemed to spend most of his time trying to sleep, the rest of his time staring at one of the walls.

He’d had one chance to really do something, to save people, and had lost it in being careless. His mind was plagued with ‘what if’s and ‘should have’s, what if he followed Merrill? What if they took a different street? He should have planned better, should have fought harder. He was haunted by the expression on Fenris’s face, the look of fear in the instant before they were pulled apart.

Time passed, though he struggled to measure it. Weeks? Days? He was unsure. With the passage of time it became harder to recall the last moments of freedom. Merrill’s voice became more indistinct. Hawke’s face faded into a spectre. The numbness of hopelessness felt like an unbroken fog.

He lay with his eyes closed, hovering between wakefulness and sleep, when he thought he heard shouting from outside, the slam of a door nearby.

‘Well that's new,’ he thought dimly, but quickly shrugged it off as another trick of his crumbling mind. Weeks ago he would have gotten to his feet and listened more intently; now he simply hugged himself closer, oblivious to the frantic footsteps coming closer to his cage with each second.


End file.
